Unsaid
by Floor-Ninja
Summary: There are a lot of things they don't say. Maybe they don't need to... Maybe they're just afraid. McCrane/Seia.


**Author:** Ninja

* * *

><p>They don't usually watch the sun set.<p>

It's not something that happens often, and it's not a habit. It isn't what Dumpson and Ayako have, and it doesn't have the convenience of one of them living next to the ocean. Despite this, that's where the real magic happens, McCrane has found. Something about the open water invites a clear view. It's beautiful, and he feels comfortable using terms like that now. It's beautiful and unique every single day. There are certain people like that, too. Beautiful and unique...

McCrane doesn't usually watch the sun set, but when he does, someone in particular is never far from his mind.

"Thank you for picking me up, McCrane."

"It's no problem," he replies.

Seia sweeps back hair from her face. McCrane has to look down to see her, but it's he who feels small. They stand in front of an old multi-story apartment complex. Somewhere on one of the upper floors is Ayako's residence. McCrane has already given her his greetings through the window of her living room, (and she is, apparently, quite used to such things,) and is now trying not to glance back in the event she is still there, pressed against the window pane and watching them with that odd little grin of hers. It's a grin that makes McCrane feel a tad uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. Just in a, well... _embarrassed_ way.

"Did you enjoy your visit, Miss Seia?" he asks after a moment passes.

Seia smiles and smoothes her skirt at the sides. "Oh... Yes." She laughs a little. "We talked, mostly."

"About work?"

"Hm?" She looks up again, meets his wide and open gaze, and giggles. "Oh, no... Well, a bit. But Ayako doesn't let me get away with talking about work all the time."

McCrane inclines his head at an angle: "I don't understand."

"Ayako prefers to talk about..." Seia clears her throat suddenly and runs a hand through her hair again. Something in her cheeks turns a shade pink - McCrane adjusts his scanners, momentarily concerned, until Seia looks away and smiles in that half-way of hers that makes him feel funny inside. "...Other things."

McCrane's head is still tilted.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" The other woman asks.

The inquiry causes McCrane to startle. "I thought I was going to take you home," he says before thinking. Then, unsure what the expression now decorating Seia's face means, and afraid that his response might have been taken the wrong way - he quickly continues, "Ah, not that I mind." He feels himself smile, and though it's a small and uncertain one, it still reaches his eyes. It's hard not to feel that way with her.

Seia looks out over the sand. Her gaze reaches the ocean and the brilliant golden sunset setting just beyond. Maybe it's the light catching her eyes that makes them sparkle, and McCrane wonders if anyone else sees it. Maybe it's just him. Whether that's the case or not, he treasures the sight all the same. Quietly, internally, her lifted face and red mouth and soft, dusk-blue eyes are written to his memory banks.

"If you have the time," she says, and looks back at him at last. Stray hair falls in front of her face, and her gaze is even softer than the last traces of daylight highlighting her skin. "I'd like that..."

If gears formed knots then the Combat Detective's were all bundles now. McCrane finds peace in her face despite the churning in his chassis, and barely even stumbles when he replies: "Anything for you, Seia."

Her lips part a little and the pink returns to her cheeks.

McCrane offers her his hand after kneeling down to her level and she accepts. Her movements are feminine and graceful as she pulls herself onto his palm, and the tap of her heels against his plating tickle just a little. Her hands rest against his upturned fingertips, and it is with the greatest caution and respect that he lifts her into a stand. She doesn't even sway, but remains half leaned into his now cupped palms with one hand gripped onto his thumb and her loose hair billowing about the cuffs of her white blouse. She's small and warm, and McCrane feels heavier than normal when their gazes meet.

"Where would you like to go?" he asks.

"The beach," she responds. "We still have a few minutes to watch the sun set. Don't you think?"

"Ah... Yes," McCrane responds with a nod. A sudden giggle stops him short. His head jerks down. "Miss-?"

"You can say no sometimes, McCrane," Seia chuckles from just below his chin.

"Why would I?" The idea alarms him.

"Oh, McCrane..." Seia's apparent mirth has died down and the hand gripping his thumb squeezes. "You really don't mind, do you."

"Of course not," he says, residual alarm causing his voice to lilt when he steps onto the sand. "I would love to watch it with you, Seia."

Sand shifts beneath his feet before he makes his way closer to the tide line. Seia has gone quiet again, though the warmth of her hand and press of her body is a constant reminder that she's with him. His sensors fuzz in her presence; she's a constant hot spot in his scanners, radiating heat and alive. He hopes his hands are warm enough. He would like her to feel that from him. His internal temperature registers as slightly above average. Thinking about it makes him feel embarrassed, again. McCrane wonders if Ayako is still looking out her window after them.

"Isn't it lovely?" Seia asks.

They've stopped just beyond the dunes. The seeping wet of sea-kissed sand tickles the edges of his feet. McCrane follows Seia's gaze out to the sea. It's hard, at first, to look away from her, but once he does, he's glad he did.

"Yes," he agrees, quietly. His answer is only halfway aimed at the setting sun.

Her hand squeezes his again.

They say nothing for what feels like a long time. The rippling horizon of gold becomes slivers that gradually disappear more and more beyond the stretch of ocean and heavy dusk-colored clouds. A breeze picks up and stirs the flow of wavy hair tussled about Seia's face. McCrane glances down at the movement. Seia is still gazing outward, as though unaware.

"Sometimes," she says, "it's nice to get out of the city."

"It is relaxing," McCrane admits. Sometimes the relative quiet makes him uneasy. There is a lot to be done, and a lot of crime that doesn't rest. Relaxing is difficult for him. His mind is restless and deep; full of undercurrents, much like the body of water in front of him. And with its fair share of storms...

"Thank you, McCrane," Seia whispers to the wind.

"Pardon?"

She turns to him with one arm draped across her middle and back leaned against his gently cradled fingers. Her smile makes the edges of his vision flicker, like jittery static. Something in him reboots, and he stares.

"We should head back," she finishes.

"Ah... O-Of course." McCrane notices she did not provide an explanation and doesn't press her for one. Instead he kneels with a whirring click of pistons and lets her step out onto the sand. She's just as graceful as before, and he's treated to a half-turn of her body against the dusk-lit ocean when he transforms with a much less graceful snap of gears. His tires crunch against the sand and sink.

"Will it be trouble to drive from here?" Seia asks and reaches for his door. McCrane unlocks it for her and she slips into his cab. The curving press of her form hits different spots on him now. He tries not to dwell on it, but it's there; more data, image and sensation written into memory banks, a fluttering twist of feeling clogging in his gears.

"Not at all," he says and turns his engine on. "I... thought we could enjoy the sun a little longer."

Seia leans against his window and gazes out beyond the glass. The reflection of her eyes against it is not lost to him. Her fingertips light upon his door, and he feels heavy again.

"I'd like that," she replies.

His tires grip the sand and soon they're moving, slow and thoughtful down the length of beach, and the radiant hum of his engine drifts along among the waves.


End file.
